


Inquisitorial

by MayLaNee



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Boys Kissing, First Kiss, Gay Draco Malfoy, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Fifth Year, Kissing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23753827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayLaNee/pseuds/MayLaNee
Summary: Oneshot of my precious OTP. Draco is performing his duties as member of the Inquisitorial Squad with fervour when McLaggen catches him off-guard.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Cormac McLaggen
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Inquisitorial

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings, dear reader. I've secretly shipped this pair for over a decade, never written anything for or about them, but I'm well into them. Please enjoy!

The Hufflepuff girl had been leaning against the wall in the hallway and McLaggen had stood there, forearm resting above and beside her, leaning over her, their faces close together; her demeanour coy, his just cocky.  
  
…and then Draco had approached, just as cocky, if not more.  
“You two!” He had exclaimed, twirling his wand in his hand as he approached them.  
McLaggen had turned his head to Draco and the girl’s coquettish expression had become one of shock.  
  
“Educational Decree Number Forty-Five, sounds familiar?” Draco enquired politely — no. No, that wasn’t right. He had been quite smug.  
  
The Huffelpuff had stiffened and had taken a step away from McLaggen, but Draco had smiled at her. “Skirt crumpled, messy hair, poor posture, five points each… That’ll be fifteen points from Huffelpuff.”  
  
He had grinned as she had scattered as quickly as she could. Then Draco had turned to McLaggen, who had not seemed very impressed.  
  
Draco had briefly considered whether that was because he was just really thick.  
  
“And you, McLaggen…” he had said as he winked at him, posh boy style, twirling his wand once more.  
  
He hadn’t meant anything by it — he winked at people all the time when he condescended to them. Pansy had told him once that it might come off as flirtatious, but he hadn’t seen a reason to keep it in check.  
  
It came naturally.  
  
And anyway, he had done it. He had winked at McLaggen and had spoken:  
“Collar; crooked, posture; poor, you had that Puff cornered which is in very poor taste, and you’re lingering in the hallway…” he had trailed off uncertainly as he realised that McLaggen didn’t appear to be as affected as he had hoped and had, in fact, approached him.  
  
…and had continued to approach him.  
  
He had then loomed over Draco, who involuntarily(?) stepped back until he had found himself pressed against the wall.  
  
McLaggen had come closer and licked and bit his lip before leaning his forearm against the stone, his face coming closer, still.  
  
‘Intimidation has got to be ten points at least,’ Draco had thought, stupidly, as he felt the other’s hot breath over his mouth. ‘Five points for… no decorum…’  
  
Then their noses had touched very, very softly.  
  
Their lips had not.  
  
Not yet.  
  
“Will you be taking points from Slytherin too, for not keeping enough distance…?” McLaggen had then asked, his breath brushing over Draco’s mouth.  
  
The sensation had made his knees weak.  
  
Two seconds had passed and then McLaggen’s lips had touched his. In the same movement he had pressed his entire body against Draco’s, chest to chest, a leg between his, and Draco’s mind had gone blank.  
  
No — no. It hadn’t gone blank, had it… Not entirely, anyway.  
  
He had had very… affirming… thoughts… about the situation.  
  
He’d remembered the day of his first Quidditch training in second year, the changing rooms after the Slytherin team had had first use of their new brooms, and he had thought some things then, which had flooded back into his mind as McLaggen’s mouth was on his.  
  
So not just affirmation after all… but confirmation.  
  
Being pressed between the stone wall and the statue of attitude and muscle that was McLaggen made it hard to breathe, but he didn’t mind. The pressure, the heat, McLaggen’s stubble, the leg…  
He couldn’t resist responding to the kiss, more hungrily than he had considered himself capable of.  
  
No… That wasn’t true either, was it…  
  
He had been bloody desperate.  
  
When McLaggen had broken away again about a minute later, Draco was so flustered he had scrambled, entirely neglecting to withdraw any points from Gryffindor.  
  
And now here he was, laying in his fourposter in the boy’s dormitory, curtains closed, wondering whether he should ignore this feeling deep inside of him or whether he should cast Muffliato around himself to… ‘tend to it’, instead.  
  
No… that wasn’t right either.  
  
What he really wondered was how long he would last before he’d give in.  



End file.
